


The Similarities Between Love and Video Games

by Bloodism



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-13 07:23:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/821574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloodism/pseuds/Bloodism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael develops a crush the same way he loses a game. Stage one: He gets mad. Stage two: He gets violent. Stage three: He shouts. Stage four: Denial. Stage five: He gives up. The Five Stages are common knowledge in the Achievement Hunter office. It’s a process that’s predictable and reliable. Except this time, it’s not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Similarities Between Love and Video Games

**Author's Note:**

> This is also posted on my Tumblr, ragefree. Just thought I'd upload it here too.

Michael develops a crush the same way he loses a game.

Stage One: He gets mad. Mad at everything. People walking in front of him, mistyping a word, getting bad signal on his phone. His heightened emotions channel through this bubbling storm of anger and it spurts out over random misfortune. His erratic behaviour, in the beginning, is ignored. Just thrown aside as ‘typical Michael’. They assume that once he gets over the fact that he lost/the game crashed/he sucks, he’ll be back to normal.

Stage Two: He gets violent. Not just with people, with objects. He slams doors, shuffles his feet, punches his desk, throws himself into chairs. In most game-related cases, he takes this anger out on Gavin. Especially if Gavin is part of the problem.

Stage Three: He shouts. A lot. Shouts at his fellow Achievement Hunters, shouts at his monitor, shouts at himself. At this point the crew take a collective sigh and wait for it to pass.

Stage Four: Denial. He refuses to believe that he lost. Refuses to believe that all of his saved progress is gone. He’ll try everything to get it back, stuck steadfastly to his desk. It’s nearing the end of the day. There’s an invisible barrier around Michael that no one dares to cross.

Stage Five: He gives up. He gets tired, accepts it for what it is, and winds down by letting Gavin tease him on the way home or by kicking back and watching a few movies. Everyone sags with relief and leaves, hoping they’ll get at least a week before it happens again.

Now, these stages happen over the course of a day, typically.

It’s rare for it to last longer. And when it does, people know Michael’s in trouble. Because if it doesn’t last a day, each stage will stretch over a week and though it doesn’t happen regularly, they know the warning signs.

Michael’s got a crush. And it’s either gonna end badly or horrifically.

He’s not exactly popular with the ladies, but he’s had his fair share of girlfriends and one-timers. He’d bring in an ‘old friend’ every now and then. He’d introduce her to the guys and then take her away, never to be seen again. So they prep themselves and wait for the inevitable lady to show up.

Except she hasn’t.

Not this time.

-

“You fucker.” Michael’s grinning at his screen, watching Gavin mine down the Tower of Pimps that he’d just erected in front of his building. He kills the scampering creeper, collects the gold, and re-erects it.

He’d won. He’d actually won.

Geoff sets up the camera, Ray throws paper roses at him from across the room, and Jack gives him a thumbs up.

“Here is Michael, collecting the Tower of Pimps for the first time in a long time,” Geoff announces, following Michael’s movements when he bounces over to where Gavin is seated in front of his desk.

“I’ll be taking this,” Michael says proudly, taking the awkward route and leaning over the back of Gavin’s chair. He pushes forwards and swipes the makeshift Tower of Pimps off of the stand, ignoring the fact that this action has made the chair tip dangerously.

It’s unnecessary and he’d be wrong if he said it wasn’t nice to feel Gavin’s hair tickling the base of his chin. But Gavin’s a clingy little asshole and Michael’s had to put up with him twirling his arms around his waist more times than he can count, so a little payback is necessary.

“Michael, I can’t—I’m falling—” Gavin’s slipping, head caged in by Michael’s arms either side of him. After not even a brief consideration of his next action, Michael smirks and with a twist of his hips, Gavin’s crashing to the floor.

The room echoes with laughter and Geoff pulls the camera back, preparing for Michael to move to his desk.

Michael’s ready to – Tower of Pimps grasped tightly in his hand – but a strong hand hooks around his ankle. It’s unexpected and with a yelp, he tumbles to the floor.

“Ray, save it!” Gavin shouts, throwing the Tower of Pimps at the man in the corner. Ray saves it… in a way. It collides with the side of his forehead. Michael’s lying on his front, too busy laughing at Ray’s genuinely confused expression to notice Gavin clambering over his back.

He realises only when Geoff starts to wolf whistle and Jack throws a box of napkins at them.

Gavin’s on all fours above him and Michael can feelhis breath on the back of his neck. He shivers.

“Gavin… kinda gay,” he says, flipping over. But Gavin is fast and his wrists are immediately pinned to the floor.

“Ray, put it back!” Gavin shouts and for once, Ray’s on his side. They’re all playing up to the camera, but they always do, and it’s hysterical. Ray starts to bound across the room, murmuring ‘parkour’, not even apologising when he catches Jack’s chair, tipping it over and sending  _Jack_ to the floor.

Michael starts to struggle but Geoff’s doubled over with laughter and it’s infectious and everything’s happy and he’s warm and Ray’s just slipped on one of his own paper roses and its madness, complete and utter madness and among it all—

Among it all, Gavin’s watching Ray and laughing in that nose-crinkling, mischievous way and his hands are smooth on Michael’s wrists and his legs are strong and sturdy, locking Michael into place and there’s a mass of mussed hair tucked behind Gavin’s ear that’s asking to be combed down and there’s a solid weight on Michael’s hips that feels  _right_ and—

Ray’s done it, the Tower of Pimps is back on Gavin’s desk. Geoff’s wiping away tears of laughter and Jack’s still on the floor, looking up at the ceiling with a goofy grin on his face.

“Gavin, you’re such a pain in the ass,” Geoff says weakly, through huffs of breath. Michael catches the side of his cheeky smile.

“I know.”

“Hey, Gavin…” Michael says softly. It’s a concerning tone and immediately, it captures Gavin’s attention.

“Michael?”

“Get off me!”

Apparently realising that yes, he is still straddling his friend, Gavin goes to move. With a sigh of relief, Michael starts to shuffle around. Until Gavin’s pinned him down again, surprisingly strong considering he’s a mass of limbs and skin.

“Geoff, get this!”

Geoff turns the camera fast and Michael is immediately remembering why it was he was fighting Gavin off in the first place. With a grin, Gavin dives down, sticking his tongue out.

“Gavin, you fuck, don’t you dare!”

He’s waving his tongue near Michael’s cheek teasingly, lips upturned into a smile. The other guys are hysterical, watching Michael’s useless struggling and laughing harder at the abuse that gets thrown around.

“You son of a bitch, you better not fucking let me go or I’ll kick your ass!”

Michael jerks his head towards Gavin instead of away from him, in a ridiculous attempt at surprise.

Now this is where things get interesting. Because they may be best friends, but Michael’s rarely this close to Gavin’s face. And it’s weird and wonderful and Gavin’s eyelashes are long, his stubble looks scratchy, his skin looks imperfect but in a good way and Gavin’s putting his tongue away now, clearly noticing that the struggling has died down.

Now Gavin’s looking and they’re just searching, taking in what they haven’t before. And Michael does two, three trips around Gavin’s face, picking out what he likes and taking apart every tiny detail. He flushes when his eyes linger for too long on parted, shining lips and it’s Geoff’s low cough that knocks him out of his daze.

He shoves Gavin off of him, ignoring the prickling, confused aura that’s oozing off of everyone in the room.

He storms over, kicking Gavin as he passes, grabs the Tower of Pimps and hurriedly places it on his block.

“Where it belongs,” he mutters half-heartedly, willing away his warm cheeks.

Geoff presses the button on the camera and the bleep evaporates the tense atmosphere. Everyone’s back to normal.

Sort of.

-

**Stage One - Anger**

Michael’s like thunder. He’s soothing in his own weird way – a gentle rumble in the distance, a quietly violent presence that’s both hated and appreciated – until he’s not anymore. Then he’s an intense explosion of vicious light and sharpness and furious passion.

Today is one of those days where he walks in and it’s clear that his presence will not go unknown.

Despite what fans think, the rage that Michael puts into games is what he allows to be loose. Any irritation he feels is usually bottled up and his fierce outbursts are more for comedic effect than a way to vent his actual emotions.

But it’s pretty damn obvious that today is just a  _really fucking bad day._

“’Sup,” Ray greets as he passes him in the hallway. All it takes it for Michael to give him a curt nod and the match is lit. Ray flees to the Achievement Hunter office to sound the alarm and when Michael arrives there, minutes later, all eyes are on him.

“Knickers in a twist?”

Of course, it’s fucking Gavin that speaks up first. Ray lets out a snort, before collapsing into giggles, whereas Geoff takes a more fatherly approach.

“Who’s got you by the ball sack?”

Shaking his head, Michael walks over to his desk and throws himself into his chair.

“You guys are fucking dicks.”

“Hey, honestly man, give us a name. We’ll hunt them down and give them the triple whammy,” Jack wheels his chair over to rest a hand on Michael’s shoulder.

“’Triple’? There’s four of us.”

“Yeah, Gavin, I didn’t really count you. You haven’t got whammy.”

“I’ve got some.”

“You’re a weedy little bitch, Gavin, you don’t have whammy,” Michael says weakly, pushing Jack’s chair away before thumping his forehead onto the desk. “This sucks.”

“What sucks? Give us a little more to work with, dude.”

See, Michael would be more than happy to provide his unfortunate feelings with Geoff. He knows how the A.H. crew can kick him out of any kind of slump he falls into. But what sucks is that he doesn’t know what it is that’s making him feel like he wants to shove his face into a  _bowl of fucking poison._

“Got nothing,” he grumbles. With a united sigh of defeat, everyone turns away. Except Gavin, who Michael has stubbornly refused to look at since entering the room because on days like this, his face is usually the only face he wants to see and yet the only face he wants to punch.

“Michael,” Gavin draws his name out like it’s a song. “Michael, talk to me.”

“Fuck off.”

Gavin’s wheeling his way over now and Michael tenses up, ready to jerk out a foot if need be. But Gavin stops, nudges Michael’s knee with his own and  _god damnit,_ Michael looks up.

And then the lightning stops. He’s back to that pleasant rumble. Just because he fucking  _looked_ at Gavin, who’s now smiling like the dumb fuck he is.

“You ‘k?”

Michael swallows. It’s there. Muffled. Trying to burst out and spray the unbridled rage through his bones. Trying to tell him that once Gavin’s gone, it’s gonna be twice as bad, twice as potent. That Gavin’s the solution, but he’s also the cause.

Michael can’t hear any of it.

“Yeah. Yeah Gavin, I’m okay.”

-

**Stage 2 - Violence**

Clearly he’s not. As soon as he’s free from the Achievement Hunter office that evening, it erupts. And oh, it’s worse. Worse than it’s been before.

The thing with Michael is he knows what he’s like when he starts to like someone. He knows the usual pattern and he lets it happen, knowing it’ll be over sooner or later. So that’s what’s got him worked up. This time, he doesn’t have a crush. This time, it’s more intense, more painful, it burns  _hotter._

And he can’t  _fucking figure out what it is._

His bones lock up, his teeth grind, his fingers curl in on themselves. He’s standing outside the office, fists shaking, feet twitching, eyes watering. He’s breaking.

Then the door opens, and when he hears his name being murmured in that quirky British accent, his entire body shuts down. He drops his bag, flings himself around and just melts into Gavin’s body.

There’s a beat of silence. Two beats.

“Everything okay out there?” Geoff’s leaning back in his chair to peek through the gap in the open door. His eyebrows shoot up when he sees Michael entwined around Gavin, face hidden into his neck.

“Yep, yep. We’re cool,” Gavin says calmly, leaning backwards to close the door, blocking out the rest of the team to leave him and Michael alone. Michael feels hands come up to his back, rubbing small, awkward circles onto it. “Hey buddy. You okay?”

“Gimme a minute,” Michael mumbles into the fabric of Gavin’s shirt. It’s quiet. And it should be awkward because they don’t do touchy feely. They don’t do chick flick moments and Michael  _definitely_ doesn’t do emotional hugging. He’d sent Gavin off to London with a slap round the head and a ‘see you soon, loser’.

So standing there, clutching onto him like he was about to evaporate into nothing… it was more than a little weird.

“Want me to give you a ride home?” Gavin asks, his thumb digging gently into Michael’s spine. It feels good and Michael holds tighter.

“That’d be awesome.”

-

**Stage 3 – Word Vomit**

Word vomit. Constant word vomit. Michael’s bad when he’s angry, but this time, it’s  _all_ that’s coming out of him. He’s a time bomb and the problem with the rest of the Achievement Hunter crew? Everyone notices and even though they try their hardest to control themselves they just… poke the bear.

Gavin’s not there. Michael doesn’t know that the reason he’s still a bubbling swirl of fury is because Gavin’s out. He doesn’t know that it’s completely fucking different this time. This time, he won’t get angry at the person he’s crushing on, as well as everyone else. This time, the person he’s likes won’t run away. This time, he’s completely oblivious.

“Michael, stop.” Geoff’s stepping in between him and Ray, realising that things are escalating beyond playful banter. One comment from Ray and Michael had blown up, shouting obscenities and cursing him into next week. Usually they bounce back from it but Ray had actually started to look a little hurt. “Jesus Christ, man, you sure you’re okay? You’re kinda wacked out.”

The door opens and Gavin bumbles in, soaking wet, apologising for his tardiness and complaining about some ‘tossing prick’ that’d caused an accident on the road.

This is when they start to realise because Michael just  _sinks_ and everything’s gone; his rage, his tension, his stress. Gavin blinks when he realises all eyes are on him and he smiles awkwardly.

“…Whatever you think I’ve done, I didn’t do it.” With a shake of their heads, Ray and Jack turn away. Michael doesn’t and neither does Geoff, side-eyeing them from behind his desk. Gavin throws his bags onto the floor and takes off his jacket, shaking off the rain. He glances cautiously at Michael. “Hey, seriously, I haven’t done anything this time.”

“No… I know. I’m just…” Michael swallows, dampening his dry throat, watching a raindrop trickle down the side of Gavin’s forehead. “…I’m glad you got here alright.”

The moment he says it, he wants to take it back. It’d slipped out before he knew what he was saying and now he has Ray’s attention. It’s not exactly a strange feat for Michael to be nice to people, but to Gavin? They’d had their fair share of ‘you’re my best friend’ moments, yeah, but their friendship revolved around the teasing and playfulness.

“Aw, Michael, you gonna cry?” Ray jokes, clearly having forgiven him for his earlier outburst.

“Shut up,” Michael replies, though there’s so anger behind his tone. Gavin’s giving him a strange, curious look and he can’t quite look away and  _ah._ That’s when Geoff knows. Or at least, when he begins to suspect.

Everyone moves to their desks and sets up their monitors, preparing for filming. While they’re occupied, Gavin sidles over to Michael and pokes him in the arm.

“Wanna talk?”

Michael glances at him and his gaze sticks. The wall in his mind crumbles a little. He’s figuring it out.

“Not yet.”

-

**Stage Four - Denial**

It’d been a niggling thought at the back of Michael’s head, but he didn’t want to probe it. He didn’t want to overthink the fact that when Gavin was close, his skin went clammy and his pulse burst into an erratic beat. He didn’t want to think about Gavin’s lips, his smile, his stubble, his hair, the fact that he’s a  _guy—_

_“_ Michael, snap out of it, you dozy bugger.” Michael jerks out of his thoughts, looking over at Gavin and then Gus, who’d clearly just asked him a question.

“I—What?”

Gus shakes his head and walks off, muttering under his breath. He expects to turn and see Gavin watching him with that concerned, searching look. But instead he gets twinkling eyes and a quirky smile.

“You back on Earth yet?” Gavin says. Michael’s eyes roam around his face before he snorts and looks away.

“Yeah, unfortunately.”

A warm hand on his elbow hauls him out of his relaxed state and his head snaps back to Gavin.

“Ready to talk? No one’s around.”

“Look, I’m not doing the whole ‘talking about feelings’ shit with you, Gav. We’re not like that.”

“That’s ‘cus there wasn’t a problem before. You’re wigging out on me.” Gavin’s fingers dig into Michael’s arm and it’s sending chills and his nerves are on fire and Michael, fuck, he wants too—

“Gavin. Leave me alone.”

It hits Gavin hard. Because Michael’s told him to go away before, but always with a smile or eyes that tell him to come back when he’s not in a bad mood anymore.

Not this time, though. It’s grating and angry and so  _defeated._

“Okay,” Gavin ignores the way his voice breaks. “Okay, I’ll go.” He lets go of Michael’s arm and walks away, shoulders low and head dipped.

Michael watches him go, bites his quivering lip, and curses himself.

-

**Stage Five – Defeat**

At this point, everyone’s supposed to guess who it is. Michael would have mentioned her at some point, maybe even brought her in, but he’s quiet. Too quiet.

He’s behind on his Rage Quits because when he gives up, it’s not in a ball of rage. It’s with a sigh, a lax throw of the controller onto the desk and an irritated scratch to the forehead. Not exactly good for entertainment purposes. And in the Lets Plays? He mumbles to himself, complains occasionally – he just gets the task over and done with.

This isn’t defeat. This isn’t how it usually works. No; this is something that holds a deadly promise. Something that seems… permanent.

And what makes it worse? Gavin’s right there alongside him. Their banter is gone; their conversation is empty; neither of them goes near the other unless they have to.

It’s killing the buzz in the Achievement Hunter office. That’s when Geoff comes in. He’s been watching Michael – watching him go through the stages that he’s seen him travel through time and time again – and he’s the only one who’s noticed the difference. He’s the only one that knows Michael won’t get out of this hole unless Gavin pulls him out of it.

Geoff waits for everyone else to the leave the office before he initiates his lecture.

“Gavin, come ‘ere.” It’s that tone of voice; the one that says ‘this is gonna be a serious talk so you better fucking behave.’ Gavin doesn’t need to be told twice. He drags his feet over to Geoff and pulls a chair up. Geoff pats him on the knee. “Now I don’t wanna get all daddy on you, but you’re being a sulky son of a bitch and you’re dragging everyone else down with you.”

Gavin looks at the floor, shrugs one shoulder.

“Not my job to make you nobs laugh.”

“No. But it _is_  your job to make the fans happy. You checked the comments of the videos we’ve been doing lately?” Geoff leans forwards and his fingers interlace. “They notice things, Gavin. For god sake, they pick up on sexual tension that doesn’t even exist. Did you think they wouldn’t realise you and Michael having a big dick off?”

Gavin runs a hand through his hair and his eyes flicker upwards before falling to the floor again.

“He doesn’t like me, Geoff.”

“Bullshit.” Gavin’s head shoots up and Geoff’s shaking his head. “You’re both fucking idiots.”

Gavin frowns at him, hands limp on his legs. “What?”

“The Five Stages, you dumbass.”

And just when the realisation flickers in Gavin’s eyes, the door opens. The rest of the crew come pouring in and Geoff leaves him alone on the chair, slapping him on the shoulder as he passes.

-

It’s been over a week since Michael has said a word to Gavin outside of the Lets Plays. As if being glared at in disappointment by Geoff wasn’t bad enough, even the fans have picked up on it. Asking him when he’s gonna make up with Gavin; telling him to just say sorry; telling Gavin to say sorry; telling them to hug it out; telling them that Team Nice Dynamite can’t end.

They don’t know the context of the fight. And to be honest, neither does Michael. He figured Gavin would come running back eventually, attempting to irritate him in some way. But he’d gotten nothing. Not even a glance.

“Michael.”

Obviously today is going to be different.

Michael looks up from his computer monitor, not bothering to hide the webpage. His Twitter is open and there’s scattered messages.

“Gavin,” he replies simply, rising out of his chair. It makes Gavin’s lip twitch a little and Michael’s heart stutters. The atmosphere deepens when Michael steps closer. It’s sizzling, thick, almost suffocating. Unspoken words, twitching fingers.

“Let’s be buds again, okay?” Gavin steps forwards and grasps his shoulder, keeping his hand there and pressing his fingers deep into fabric.

Michael didn’t know words could send away so much stress. He visibly relaxes; smiles at Gavin like he’s everything… because he is. He wants to list why; he wants to think about why it is that Gavin’s suddenly slipped into his life and stuck in his roots. But he can’t.

Michael raises a hand. Rests it atop Gavin’s shoulder. Squeezes.

“Best buds,” he croaks, throat clenching. Gavin’s eyes are  _everywhere_  – Michael’s lips, his nose, cheekbones, skin, jawline. Fuck, fuck, fuck,  _fuck,_ Michael bites his lip.

“Michael,” Gavin whispers and Michael’s attention is on lips because it all makes sense now, it all fucking makes sense and there’s this build-up of need and want and love and—

“Fuck it.”

Michael captures Gavin’s head in his hands and pushes forwards, pressing their lips together. He doesn’t care that Gavin goes rigid; he doesn’t care if this is just going to fuck everything up even more; he doesn’t care if this will end him. He needs it and he can taste Gavin on his upper lip, taste him on the tip of his tongue, and it’s perfect.

In the future, when Gavin’s asked how he responded to the kiss, he tells everyone that he didn’t enjoy it as much as Michael.

And then Michael remembers back to when his entire life changed because instead of being pushed away, Gavin pulled closer. Instead of disgust, he got encouragement. And when Michael pulls back for air, arms dropping to his sides, Gavin’s the one who chases his lips and clutches hold of Michael’s face to drag him back in.

_‘I was freaking out.’_ It always makes Michael laugh.

Gavin takes control and prises open Michael’s mouth with his tongue, almost  _squeaking_ when Michael brushes his own tongue along it. And Michael ends up being the one who’s crowded up against his desk, legs parted, allowing Gavin to squeeze closer. He sits back, mind scrabbled, when Gavin drags his nails down the sensitive skin of his neck and starts to suck on his bottom lip.

When they eventually do part to heave in oxygen, Michael wishes he could take photographic evidence of Gavin’s face. Flushed, distant, mouth wet and parted, eyes glazed over. It’s when Gavin blinks, looks down between the two of them, almost as if not knowing how he’d ended up hustling Michael onto the desk – that’s when Michael wants to just cling to Gavin and not let him go.

“So uh,” Gavin’s still dumbstruck, not noticing that he’s still subconsciously stroking Michael’s neck. He gathers his thoughts and looks down at Michael, eyes twinkling. “We’re buddies again, right?”

Michael smirks  and shakes his head.

“Moron.”

-

Ray and Jack hurry back from the kitchen and nearly walk into Geoff, who’s standing guard at the door to the Achievement Hunter office. He doesn’t even spare them a glance, just stands straight, staring at the wall ahead of him.

Ray opens his mouth to ask. Then Jack does. Then they swallow their words, nodding.

“Michael and Gavin making up?” Jack eventually says.

Geoff doesn’t respond. He stands his ground. Ray clears his throat, finally capturing his attention. They stare each other down in solemn silence.

“Michael and Gavin making out?”

Geoff breaks eye contact. Ray grins.

“Knew it.”

-

Gavin fell in love with Michael the same way he learns how to play a new game.

He starts off confused and kinda irritated. It’s new ground and he doesn’t like it; he likes normal and constant and habit. But then he tries harder. He gets into the swing of it and starts noticing little things that are keeping him interested. He won’t admit it, though. He’ll secretly tell himself it’ll be a lot better when he goes back to the games he loves.

Then woops, he’s suddenly neck-deep in a game he originally started out avoiding because it was too different and too complicated. And he loves it. He loves the rush, loves the awkwardness, loves how new it feels.

“Gavin, you better save me or you’re gonna have your right hand to keep you company over the next week instead of my mouth.” Michael snaps at Gavin. There’s a chorus of groans as Gavin pushes past zombies, smashing buttons on his controller, and pulls Michael up from the ground.

_“_ Michael, your sex life is completely irrelevant right now.” Jack quips, though he’s grinning.

“Dude, it’s always relevant.” Ray waggles his eyebrows at Caleb, who’s filming the Behind-The-Scenes video.

“Perverts,” Gavin mutters down the mic, side-eyeing Michael and smirking. Michael winks and him and then goes back to his screen.

When Gavin finds a new game, he knows within minutes of playing if it’s gonna sit deep with him. He knows if it’s gonna be a game he’ll regret playing. But Michael’s not a game; he’s a person.

…If he was though?

“Hey Gavin, want a kiss? Bam! There’s your kiss. Shotgun to the face.”

…Yeah, he’d be a game Gavin wouldn’t ever regret.


End file.
